


I Like Weird

by orphan_account



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-15
Updated: 2011-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-15 16:44:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime has a crush. And an alien wand that talks to him inside his head. Nothing unexpected could possibly come of this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Like Weird

**Author's Note:**

> Jaime/Tim Hogwarts AU. A slightly cleaned up version of the fic I wrote for Tumblr. Figured I'd post it here since it's becoming a thing.

_Talking to him = good idea._

“He’s probably busy fighting crime and being cool,” Jaime whispers to his wand, tucked behind a statue. He tugs at the yellow and black scarf around his neck; prefect patrol is a bit on the chilly side, but he always has a little trouble breathing properly in situations like this.

 _He is not busy fighting crime. He is standing nineteen feet away looking around._

“So he doesn’t see any crime right now! I’ll talk to him when I’m ready.”

 _He is now standing eighteen feet and six inches away, looking in our general direction, raising his left eyebrow._

Busted.

“Hey!” Jaime says as he steps out from behind the statue, trying to at least keep his greeting cool and casual. There’s something about his opposite number from Ravenclaw that makes everything he says come out awkward as can be, and he’d really rather not chase him away before they even get a chance to chat. Not that he’s ever done so before, but he’s kind of popping out from behind a statue. A little bit weird, especially compared to Tim Drake, who always seems as composed as can be. “Mind if I walk with you? My patrol’s dead tonight.”

“If you don’t mind leaving it neglected,” Tim answers and it sounds cold when Jaime thinks too hard about it, but there’s that little quirk of his mouth that would probably be a small smile on anyone else; Jaime’s heart flutters. _He doesn’t hate me!_ He’s appropriately disturbed by how closely his thoughts mirror those of your average 13-year-old girl, but there’s not much use in denying the giddiness to himself. “Your patrol seems to be dead every time you run into me, I’ve noticed,” Tim points out, a tinge of smugness in his voice.

“You noticed?” Jaime squeaks, even though it’s not as if he’s lying to Tim. His patrol is almost always dead. “I guess my reputation just strikes fear into the hearts of evildoers.” Tim deigns to bestow a tiny chuckle upon him for that; Jaime stores it in his memory so it can be treasured like the gift from the heavens it totally is.

“I’m not surprised. I’ve heard Filch threatening first years with you if they don’t wipe their feet before coming inside.” Jaime’s laughter isn’t nearly as reserved, echoing through the otherwise silent hallways. Tim made a joke! For him! Sort of. Maybe they’re getting closer. By the time they’re thirty, maybe Jaime will be able to tell him that he’s kind of basically really really attractive. Between that and wizard dentristry, his future is looking bright.

 _Heightened arousal suggests he enjoys your company. Recommended action: kiss him._   
__

“What? Shut up!” Jaime snaps, realizing his mistake immediately but having no idea how to fix it. He looks back at Tim, who is just staring.

“...Did I say something wrong?” he finally asks, almost sounding hurt.

“No! No, not you. I… my wand talks to me,” he blurts it out. “I think it’s from aliens. I’m not crazy.” Tim is silent for a few moments, apparently deciding where to place alien wand-talking on the scale of nuts.

“You’re very weird, Jaime,” Tim decides.

“Sorry,” Jaime apologizes.

“No. I _like_ weird,” Tim whispers, and Jaime would have had some thoughts about how he could never pull that line off if Tim hadn’t decided to kiss him at that moment, effectively putting non-“oh god” thought-forming in a mental tumble cycle. _Oh god he’s kissing me oh god is that his tongue oh god that’s his tongue oh god since when was I up against the wall oh god_

 _Told you so._

Jaime is too oh my god distracted to pay much attention to his wand’s bragging; instead, he focuses what little energy he can muster on kissing back, grabbing Tim’s wrists when he tugs on Jaime’s scarf, not melting into a puddle of hormones when Tim’s thigh presses between his. Not melting into a puddle of hormones in general. “Fuck,” he breathes when Tim breaks away, mentally taking points away from Hufflepuff for bad language at his mental mom’s insistence.

“Sorry,” Tim apologizes, looking… sheepish. Jaime didn’t even know Tim could look sheepish.

“No! I… like. Uh, kissing,” Jaime manages awkwardly, resisting the temptation to smack himself for trying to pull that line off. He should have known he couldn’t.

“Oh. That’s a relief,” he smiles, as if he just heard that the weather forecast for his picnic tomorrow was sunny. Then he kisses Jaime again, and Jaime is utterly overwhelmed again, but something feels off—

“Prefects gone wild!” the approaching figure cheers, and Jaime’s heart drops straight past his stomach and into a squishy lump on the carpet when the voice’s owner registers to him. “Take it off!”

Tim untangles himself from Jaime with way more dignity than he should really be able too, and smooths out his hair a bit before responding, “Jason.”

“That’s Head Boy to you, blue blood baby bird,” the Slytherin smirks as he alliterates, tapping the badge pinned to his robes. “But hey, don’t stop on my account. You guys are putting on one hell of a spectacle. Nice to know I’m not getting rejected just because I’m a Mudblood. You are one, right Reyes?”

“I prefer Muggle-born, actually,” he frowns; at the slur, at the idea of the Head Boy propositioning Tim, at how much more awkward his life has suddenly managed to become, at the fact that he still doesn’t regret the kissing. Being a teenager sucks.

“Muggle-born, of course! Me and my dirty mouth. Ten points from Slytherin!” he laughs; Jaime looks over at Tim, who’s just glaring. “So. The show must go on?”

“No,” Tim responds curtly.

“Too bad,” Jason sighs. “In that case, you ought to get back to work. Filch caught some kids trying to sneak into the library, Reyes. Isn’t that your route? Poor old guy, having to pick up the slack for you.”

“Oh! Sorry. Just let me… peel myself off this wall.” It was proving to be a more difficult task than he’d have thought.

“Heh. Sure thing,” he chuckles, turning to leave. “See you around, Timbo.”

Timbo, for his part, is still glaring at Jason’s back so hard Jaime’s surprised reality doesn’t give him a break and grant him the laser eyes he’s obviously trying so hard to develop. He only speaks again once Jason is out of sight, “You should probably go. Even though he’s probably lying.”

“Yeah… don’t wanna get the Head Boy mad. So… um…”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” Tim offers.

“That sounds good!” Jaime answers enthusiastically, finally managing to peel himself off the wall. That really was hard. “Um. Making out with you was nice! Thank you!” he calls to Tim as he hurries back to his patrol. He was taught it’s important to thank people when they do nice things for you.

“Thank you too, Jaime,” Tim chuckles, turning back to his own duties.

 _Smooth._

“Once again, shut up!” Jaime nearly shouts at it, and he can hear Tim laughing from behind him even harder than before; the feeling is warm enough that he almost takes off his scarf. But he doesn’t, because it is seriously chilly.


End file.
